This is not our home,
Yet it is here that we are raised.
Within these gray walls
We spend our woeful days.
What cannot be forgotten
Here we try to forget,
But should the memories escape us
We would become filled with regret.
We think of what we have lost
As we play under cloudy skies.
Sometimes we may smile
Though it will never reach our eyes.
At night we cannot sleep,
For we fear what lies under our beds,
But the most terrifying monsters
Are the ones in our heads.
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